


Best of Wives and Best of Women

by SuiGeneris221B



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuiGeneris221B/pseuds/SuiGeneris221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hugh and Dot's first anniversary is celebrated in the best possible way and Jack and Phryne discover a love of literature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Best of Wives

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to Diane and Dani for letting me rant/being my sounding board/plying me with chocolate when stumped/sending me GIFs to make me laugh.
> 
> Enter Disclaimers here.
> 
> Also, #yayhamlet !

“Good morning, love.” Hugh Collins walked into the cozy little kitchen just after sunrise to see Dot carefully maneuvering around the table to get to the stove. She started to reach for the pot of oatmeal when Hugh darted over to take it instead. “I'll get that! You should sit down! You're on your feet too much.”

“Hugh, I'm fine!” Dot looked exasperated but Hugh was quick to notice the look of relief that crossed her face when she sat down. “I am, however, starving so unless you're planning on cooking me something else you'll hand over that food.”

Quickly dipping up a bowl, he put the steaming oatmeal in front of her and held up his hands, backing away slowly. “Never let it be said that I got between an expectant woman and her breakfast.”

She giggled and grabbed her spoon. “It's not me you'd be getting between. The baby demanded oatmeal this morning and I was helpless to deny them. Now pass me the jar of honey and those slices of fruit behind you.”

Hugh couldn't believe he'd been lucky enough to wake up every morning to her face for one whole year. It seemed like such a long time and only yesterday all at once. One year ago the most beautiful woman in the world was walking down the aisle smiling at him escorted by her boss and mentor. He and Dot had stood in front of Father O'Leary and their chosen family and she had spoken her vows with a strong, clear voice; no hesitation or fear marred the sincerity of her words and he was floored by that even still. 

He had never known he could feel so strongly about anything as he did about Dot. He was continually surprised by the little things that made him so happy. The way she lit up when telling him about something new Miss Fisher praised her for during a case, the way Dot seemed to instinctively know when he needed a hug, the way she'd smile at him when he played with her nieces and nephews at family gatherings, and the way she'd preen in front of the mirror to make herself look especially nice for him, even though there was nothing particularly special going on that day. Then with shining eyes when she told him that he was going to be a father, he thought it wouldn't be possible to top the euphoria that came over him.

But today WAS a special day and Hugh had been given the time off so that he and Dottie could celebrate their anniversary. Even though Dot looked ready to pop, he felt like she was itching to get out of the house. Their baby would be arriving any day and best to enjoy their time together as two before they became three.

Watching Dot ravenously attack her meal, Hugh joined her at the table after putting the kettle on for tea. “Anything you'd love to do to celebrate today, Dottie? We could go for a drive or maybe go to the pictures? I'd take you dancing but we'd just make everyone jealous,” he smirked.

She returned his smirk with one of her own. “More like we'd knock everyone down. Or my stomach would, anyway. If I get any bigger I won't be able to get out the door!”

“Then I'll make the door bigger,” he smiled. 

Dot rolled her eyes at him but smiled anyway. “You finish making the tea. I need to grab a pillow for the chair as my back still hurts.”

“I can get that for you.” 

“No, I need to get up. Moving around a little helps.”

She slowly made her way out of the kitchen as Hugh grabbed the whistling kettle and poured the water into the teapot and sat it on the table. He was reaching for two mugs when he heard a sudden gasp and a thump. Rushing out of the room he saw her bent over slightly with one hand on her stomach and the other grabbing the back of a chair in an iron grip. A large pillow was on the floor. “Dot! Dottie, are you alright?!” His eyes were bigger than saucers.

“Hugh. I think...I think...the baby may be coming.”

“What?!” He ran his hands through his hair making it stand on end. “Today?! Now?! But it's—we haven't—I should—and then-”.

“Breathe, Hugh!” she barked. He looked ready to pass out, but her tone seemed to snap him back to the present.

“Right! I'll help you back to the bedroom to lie down and then I'll call Dr. Macmillan and your mum and my mum and...”

“Hugh, the doctor for now is just fine.” She looked like she was still trying to catch her breath, not to mention not wanting to entertain the idea of their mothers together in the same room for hours on end. 

“Yes. The doctor. I'll do that.” He raced over to the phone while Dot waddled back to the bedroom, smiling at her husband's agitation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping out of the bedroom after giving Dot an examination, Mac looked at Hugh and grinned. “Looks like today is the big day. I'm going to call the hospital to clear my schedule and request a nurse to come over. Everything looks good and it's all a waiting game at this point.”

“Thank you so much Doctor,” Hugh exhaled. “Can I go see her?”

“Absolutely. Relax, Collins. Your Dot is made of tough stuff.” 

“Of course she is.” He gave Mac a nervous smile and rushed to see his wife.

Mac had just walked over to the telephone when there was a pounding at the door. Seeing that Hugh wasn't going to leave Dot's side, she opened it herself and found a beaming Phryne standing with a large basket and sardonically stated, “Now I've seen everything. Phryne Fisher is out of bed before nine in the morning and there's a baby involved. The age of miracles is not yet past.” But she gave her friend a teasing grin and Phryne stuck out her tongue.

“Here I was about to hand you a hamper of food that Mr. Butler had made but now I don't think you deserve it.” 

“Probably not, but you're going to give me that basket anyway because I'm hungry and I'm going to be here for a while.” Phryne suddenly looked concerned but Mac quickly explained. “It's a first baby, Phryne. Almost all first babies take their time and Dot is no exception. She's doing just fine. Now give me the food.”

“Well, I suppose you're forgiven.” Handing over the baked goods, she followed Mac in the house. “How is Hugh holding up?”

“Not too bad, all things considered. But again, it's early and Dot's not in a lot of pain yet. We'll see how the young constable fares when she's in full labor and he can't do a thing to help.” She sat the basket on the kitchen table and pulled off the linen cloth on top promptly grabbing a slice of banana bread. “I have to call the hospital to schedule a nurse to come by. You can go back and see Dot if you'd like.”

Phryne hurried to the bedroom to find Hugh rearranging the pillows and Dot looking like she was already wanting to swat him but brightened when she saw who'd come through the door. 

“Miss Phryne!” Dot reached out for her hand and Phryne promptly grabbed it, planting a loud kiss on Dot's forehead when she sat on the bed. 

“How are you, my darling? Are you excited?”

Dot beamed. “Excited, nervous...I'm not sure what word to use.” She glanced over at Hugh who was looking askance at some of the medical items Mac had brought. 

“And how are you holding up, Hugh?” said Phryne with a wry grin. 

“Hmm? Oh I'm fine, Miss Fisher. Just fine. Concerned for Dottie but otherwise I'm fine. Really...fine.” Phryne thought his bumbling and stammering most adorable. 

“When will your mothers be arriving?”

Hugh looked embarrassed. “I...um...haven't called them yet, Miss. Dottie and I thought it might be better if we waited until she was a little farther along before letting them know.” Even after a year of marriage, their mothers held a fragile détente around Hugh and Dot.

“Probably wise.” Phryne admitted. “But I'm honored that you told Mac to call me. Mr. Butler sends his love and best wishes, along with a variety of food, and I've told him to tell Cec and Bert when he sees them. Knowing the two of them, they'll be haunting outside your house until they know everything is well.”

Dot laughed again. “Yes, they probably will.”

“Would you like me to go to the station to tell the Inspector, Hugh? I'm sure he'd be very happy to know the news.” 

“That would be very kind of you, Miss Fisher. Thank you.”

Just then, Mac walked back in the room and noticing Hugh was inching closer to looking in her medical bag, shooed him away. “No looking in there for you, Collins.”

“What? No! I mean—I haven't touched—I just wondered-.”

“You can keep wondering. Stay out of that bag. Everything in it is sterile and will only be handled by myself or the nurse. Not to mention you'd probably faint after seeing what was in there so keep your hands to yourself.” Phryne and Dot gave each other exasperated looks.

“Yes, Doctor Macmillan. Miss. Hands are off.” Hugh darted to the other side of the room. Mac gave Phryne and Dot a quick wink.

“Alright then,” said Phryne, “I'm going to go see the Inspector and then take care of a few errands unless you or Mac needs me to stay?” Mac and Dot both shook their heads. “I'll stop back by later today to see how you're doing then.” Phryne squeezed Dot's hand and gave her a tender smile. 

“Of course, Miss.” Dot smiled back. “I'm so glad you came by.” Phryne leaned in to give Dot a hug and repeated her forehead kiss. 

“I'll be thinking of you all day. Tell someone to call me if you need absolutely anything.” She reached out to squeeze Hugh's hand as well and giving them both an encouraging grin, Phryne left the room to go to City South.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, Phryne came back to Hugh and Dot's little house to find Hugh rapidly pacing the floor and an older woman watching him with barely concealed amusement.

“Son, if you keep that up, you're going to wear yourself a path to the other side of the earth.”

“Mum, what else can I do? It's been hours and nothing's happening!”

“There's plenty happening, just not at the speed you'd like! Now sit down and quit your fidgeting. You're making me nervous.”

Phryne softly knocked on the door frame and watched him bolt over to the door as though relieved to finally have something to do. 

“Miss Fisher! You're back!”

“Of course I am. I told Dot I would be back. Now can I come in or would you rather I wait in the cab with Cec and Bert over there?” She motioned towards the street where the two cabbies had, true to form, been parked for several hours. Hugh gave them a confused but grateful wave.

“No, of course you can come in,” Hugh jumped out of the way to let Phryne come in. “Miss Fisher, I'd like you to meet my mother Isobel.”

Phryne leaned around Hugh to shake the woman's hand. “Phryne Fisher,” she said. 

“You're Dorothy's employer? I've seen pictures in the paper of you.” Isobel's tone was not impressed. Phryne raised one eyebrow but said nothing.

Just then a wail of pain came from the bedroom and they could all hear Mac coaching Dot. “Come on Dot! You've got to do better than that.” Another woman's voice could be heard, but Phryne couldn't tell what was being said.

“Who else is with her besides Mac and the nurse?”

“Dottie's mother is in there, too.”

“Ah yes...Ruth.” Phryne twisted her mouth a little and gave an involuntary nervous laugh. “I think it's best I stay out here.” While she and Ruth Williams had only met a few times, the fact that Phryne held such influence over Dot and put her in dangerous situations at times (and was the one to walk Dot down the aisle at her wedding) did not sit well with Dot's mother at all. Not that Phryne really blamed her, but muttering to Dot once that Phryne was aptly named was really beyond the pale.

Another wail from Dot made Hugh's face blanch. “It's been hours! How is she doing this?” Phryne promptly reached into her purse and pulled out a flask of whiskey and shoved it in Hugh's hands. Without thinking he unscrewed the top and took a drink. His throat suddenly felt like someone lit it on fire. 

Bent at the waist and hacking, Phryne and Isobel pounded on Hugh's back until he managed to get himself under control again. “Come now Hugh,” said Phryne, a little insulted. “My whiskey is straight from Scotland! The best the Highlands produces!”

Isobel grabbed the flask and gave Hugh a scolding glance. “Give me that.” She gave it a sniff and then took a healthy slug. “She's right, Hugh. You've really got to learn to appreciate the good liquor.” Phryne was of two minds as to whether she should laugh hysterically or be stunned that she wasn't being thrown out of the house on her ear. 

“Just—water will be fine—from here in,” Hugh wheezed, wiping his eyes. Momentarily distracted from Dot's distress, everyone had a moment of levity at his expense, but when she began crying out again Hugh thought his heart was going to rip from his chest. “When is this going to end?”

Phryne thought she heard the level of activity pick up and directed Hugh into a chair. “It sounds like it shouldn't be much longer. Dot's only been at this for...” She glanced at her wristwatch. “...fourteen hours?”

He bent over to put his head between his knees and ran his hands through his hair again. 

“Son, if you keep doing that, you're going to be bald.” Isobel knelt down beside him and took his hands in hers, rubbing some warmth back into them. “Dorothy is in excellent health and if there was a problem we would be told. Take comfort from that and calm yourself. You'll do her and the baby no good if you've got a lump on your skull from passing out.”

“She's right, Hugh.” said Phryne. “You know there's no better doctor than Mac and she's taking care of Dot. Before too much longer there will be a new little Collins in the world. Just imagine how we're all going to spoil him or her rotten!”

Hugh looked up at them both with watery eyes. “Of course, Miss Fisher. Mum.”

Laughter began to echo from the bedroom and a split second later they all heard the tiny sound of a baby's cry. Hugh, Isobel, and Phryne all shot to their feet and looked at the door as though they could mentally fling it open. A white capped nurse poked her face out the door and looked straight at Hugh with a smile like a ray of sunshine. 

“You have a daughter, Mr. Collins!”

Phryne shouted, Isobel threw her arms around her son, and Hugh burst into overjoyed tears. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, in the wee hours of the morning, all the guests had left with the exception of the nurse Phryne had insisted on hiring, who was busy setting up a cot in the baby's room so Dot could get some sleep. While she was putting things to rights elsewhere, Dot and Hugh were gazing at their little girl with no small amount of wonder. 

“She's so tiny,” marveled Hugh. “I can't believe she's finally here.”

“She certainly chose a good day to arrive.” Dot ran her hand over the top of the baby's head. The downy softness was unlike anything she'd felt before. “Didn't you, Sara Beatrice Collins?”

“For a first anniversary gift, I have to say, I don't know if we'll ever manage to top this one.” Hugh gently kissed Sara's hand and watched as her little fingers firmly grabbed his index finger. He knew from that point on he was a goner. He would do anything for the women in his life and now there was one more to bring him joy.

“She's certainly bringing everyone together. Never in my life did I ever imagine my mother and Miss Fisher would hug, much less be in the same room together again.” Dot laughed. 

“That may just qualify as an actual miracle. We'll have to let Father O'Leary know,” deadpanned Hugh.

The night nurse knocked on the door and Hugh moved out of the way, letting her and Dot discuss bringing Sara to the nursery and if Dot was comfortable enough to finally get some sleep. Hugh didn't think he'd be able to calm down enough to sleep, but he knew if he was going to be of any use to his new family, he'd need to close his eyes for a few hours anyway.

Noting that Dot was starting to drift off, he moved back to the bed and leaned over, kissing her softly. “You are the best of wives,” he murmured.


	2. Best of Women

Phryne returned from an afternoon of shopping and lunch with friends to find Jack sitting in her parlor, book in hand, sipping a glass of whiskey, and looking as though he'd give anything to be able to sit there forever. Or at least for a considerable time. He'd spent the morning testifying at the trial of a man who'd murdered his business partner in a jealous rage and from the expression on Jack's face, Phryne could tell things hadn't gone well.

“Jack! What brings you by at this hour?”

He started and turned to give her a slightly guilty look. “My apologies for taking over your parlor in your absence. Mr. Butler let me in and I helped myself to a drink. I just...needed to go anywhere that wasn't the station or my own home.”

She gave him a soft smile and sat her shopping bags on the piano. “You know you're welcome at any time, Jack. Whether I'm here or not.” Turning to pour herself a drink, she then sat beside him on the chaise, tucking up her feet under her and giving him her full and undivided attention. “I'm guessing the trial today was a disaster?”

“Right in one,” he sighed. “The prosecution was an absolute joke. Bungled from the beginning. The defense had no problems casting doubt on absolutely everything. Never mind that there was incontrovertible evidence Adams killed his partner, his attorney grandstanded to such an extent that by the time he finished, everyone in the room was convinced the police had tainted the evidence, that the newspapers had slandered him unfairly, and that the whole trial was nothing more than mob rule to send an innocent man to the gallows.” Jack was clutching his glass so hard it took Phryne a minute to unwrap his fingers from the crystal.

“I don't object to your throwing something if you need to, Jack, but if you squeeze that tumbler any harder you're going to slice your fingers to ribbons.”

He immediately let go and shamefacedly gave her the glass. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Jack. But your hands are too lovely to have bandaged up over someone else's stupidity.” He gave her a half-grin and she handed his drink back to him. “There now. Let's try this again.”

He sat his glass on the table in front of him and sighed. “Let's not. I'd like to forget today, which is why I came over here.”

She brightened and gave him a seductive smile. “I'm glad you feel that way. Is there any particular way you'd like to forget?” Jack rolled his eyes and Phryne leaned in to play with his tie.

“Walked right in to that one.”

“Yes, you did. And you haven't answered the question.”

“Phryne, it's the middle of the day and Mr. Butler is here.”

“I wasn't suggesting doing anything in this room. Upstairs, on the other hand....”

His eyes darkened, but he leaned away, holding up the book he'd been reading before she came in. “I should probably finish this first.”

She pouted. “Where did you find that book?”

“On your shelves. Which truly surprised me as it's a book of love letters. I didn't think this type of literature was your preference.”

She took the volume out of Jack's hands and began to flip through it. “To be honest, I don't even remember where I got it. Or that I even had it. Must've been a gift that I promptly ignored.” Phryne handed the book back to him with disinterest.

“Probably so,” he demurred. “I can't imagine a woman enjoying reading letters from men and women to their significant others throughout history extolling their virtues, their beauty, or their intelligence.”

She looked down at her half-empty glass as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. “I can't imagine what kind of examples this book contains.”

“Shall I read you a few examples to see if anything piques your interest?” Rather than wait on her reply, he opened the book at a random place and began to read aloud.

_“How did I love before I knew you — before I possessed your affection! I reckon upon your love as something that is to endure when everything that can perish has perished — though my trust is sometimes mingled with fear, because I feel myself unworthy of your love. But if I am worthy of it you will always love me; and if there be anything good and pure in me, it will be proved by my always loving you.” Nathaniel Hawthorne 1839_

Jack carefully looked up at Phryne but she was still gazing at her drink, studiously avoiding meeting his gaze. “Perhaps that one did not appeal? How about this one?”

_“I am so lonely I can hardly bear it. As one needs happiness so have I needed love; that is the deepest need of the human spirit. And as I love you utterly, so have you now become the whole world of my spirit. It is beside and beyond anything that you can ever do for me; it lies in what you are, dear love — to me so infinitely lovely that to be near you, to see you, hear you, is now the only happiness, the only life, I know. How long these hours are alone!_

_Yet is good for me to know the measure of my love and need, that I may at least be brought to so govern myself as never to lose the love and trust that you have given me.” Rockwell Kent 1926_

She still said nothing. “Ah, this seems more faithful.”

_“You are to me an object intensely desirable—the air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy. I am not the same to you—no--you can wait—you have a thousand activities—you can be happy without me. Any party, anything to fill up the day has been enough.” John Keats 1820_

Before he could find another passage to read, Phryne reached over and plucked the book from his hands. She methodically turned pages until she paused and cleared her throat, reading back to him.

_“It seems to me, to myself, that no man was ever before to any woman what you are to me — the fullness must be in proportion, you know, to the vacancy…and only I know what was behind — the long wilderness without the blossoming rose…and the capacity for happiness, like a black gaping hole, before this silver flooding. Is it wonderful that I should stand as in a dream, and disbelieve—not you—but my own fate? Was ever any one taken suddenly from a lampless dungeon and placed upon the pinnacle of a mountain, without the head turning round and the heart turning faint, as mine do? And you love me more, you say? …. How shall I ever prove what my heart is to you? How will you ever see it as I feel it?” Elizabeth Barrett to Robert Browning 1845_

Jack slid closer to Phryne. “I thought you said you had no idea what this book was?” She gave him a sheepish look and reddened slightly.

“I bought this book about a year ago. At first I bought it to give to someone else, but then I started reading through it and I...couldn't let it go. Once it was just a lovely book about beautiful letters but now it's come to mean more than that.”

His voice hit a deep register that seemed to vibrate her very soul. “And why would that be?”

She met his gaze and held it. “I think you know why,” she whispered.

Jack paused for a minute to let the words sink in and then took the book back from her hands. He seemed to hit on the letter he wanted almost immediately.

_“I have told you, and I told you truly that I love you too much. You engross my thoughts too entirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness... I believe in my soul you are an enchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment...Is my language too strong? It is a feeble picture of my feelings—no words can tell you how much I love and how much I long—you will only know it when wrapt in each others arms we give and take those delicious caresses which love inspires....” Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler 1780_

Phryne shivered, even though the day was warm. Jack closed the book and as he sat it on the table she began to recite from memory. 

_“I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports...when you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.” Gustave Flaubert 1846_

“I am always amazed by you,” he murmured, and pulled her in to capture her lips with his. She melted in his arms, returning his kiss as passionately as she knew how. All the stress of the day melted away and her presence brought him back to life. “You truly are the best of women,” he sighed against her mouth.

Her blue eyes met his and all she could say was, “Come upstairs with me, Jack.” 

And he did.


End file.
